


Cunning Boy

by Doumo_kun



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Will Graham, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:39:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doumo_kun/pseuds/Doumo_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is distracted.  (unimaginative title and summary...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cunning Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story in the Hannibal fandom and it's also my first attempt at writing in a very long time. The story is based on a vague premise that Hannibal is the head of a criminal syndicate, still a psychiatrist by day and Will is an orphan taken in by Verger Senior as a pet/groomed to be bodyguard for his son when they were young. The story suddenly begins and ends just as abruptly but hopefully, it will make some sense (-__-;). 
> 
> The Hannibal/Will pair are consenting adults in this story.
> 
> Lastly, I do not own Hannibal.

 

Hannibal reluctantly admits to himself he is beyond distracted when he is unable to retain any information steadily streaming through his ears as his dutiful assistant recounts the day’s business.

 

Even the tranquil view of white snow blanketing everything in sight from his dining room window does nothing to calm his mind.

 

‘My apologies Francis,’ Hannibal gives a sideward glance to the dark figure standing behind him like a shadow. ‘I find myself preoccupied tonight.’

 

Dolarhyde straightens imperceptibly the moment Hannibal’s dark maroon eyes settle on his stoic figure. He dips his head with an obedience of a loyal hound, ‘of course Dr. Lecter.’

 

Without another word, Francis takes his leave.

 

Hannibal eyes the time on his wristwatch and notes Will is far too late.

 

It takes him five minutes to transfer two healthy serves of beef bourguignon that he’s been stewing into ceramic Tupperware and another two minutes to retrieve his keys before he’s heading into the garage for his car.

 

The drive to Wolf Trap already too long, slowed further by the persistent snow and the freezing road.

 

Hannibal is an extremely patient man but tonight, he finds it waning fast.

 

The lone farmhouse finally comes into view and his tense grip on the steering wheel eases. It glows like a beacon in the vast open field, the warm orange light spilling from its windows and illuminating its weather worn white visage.

 

He parks behind the beat up truck and gathers the Tupperware before making his way to the lit porch.

 

He retrieves the spare key hidden beneath the Rottweiler ornament sitting by the windowsill and unlocks the front door. The dogs are there to greet him with their usual enthusiasm and he in turns gives them the requisite attention before he firmly commands, ‘Heel.’

 

The pack is quick to heed his word, instinctively acknowledging the apex alpha in the room.

 

Hannibal wastes no time unloading the containers on the kitchen counter and shedding his overcoat. Above him, the pipes creak from use and he knows where he will find Will.

 

He quietly ascends the stairs tucked behind the kitchen and makes his way to the bathroom on the second floor. The newest addition, Winston, is resting in front of the closed door when he reaches the second floor and immediately perks his head when he sees Hannibal.

 

Unlike the rest of the pack, Winston keeps close to his master and is not easily swayed when offered with Hannibal’s home made sausages.

 

Hannibal comes to stand before the dog and meets his suspicious gaze. ‘May I?’  

 

Winston, as usual, tilts his head and considers him for a long moment and grudgingly moves aside.

 

Amused, Hannibal nods his head to the dog. ‘Thank you.’

 

He reaches for the doorknob but it turns before he touches it. The door swings open and although he expected as much, he is still delighted by the sight. Except for the worn bath towel wrapped around his trim waist, Will is gloriously naked.

 

Will stagers in his step and rears back, clearly surprised by his presence. ‘Hannibal, I didn’t hear you come in.’

 

He is pleased by the response. It was not so long ago that Will would have slammed the door right in his face without apology. Not out of modesty or embarrassment for his nudity but out of preservation.

 

It is a trust he does not intend to squander. He is, however, a red-blooded male and naturally, he takes full advantage of the opportunity he’s presented with. His keen eyes traverse over Will’s pale skin, now flushed and dewy from the scolding shower he favours. His deceptively slim form is muscled from years of forced training as a human weapon, coiled with hidden strength.   The extensive scarring that Will always hides beneath long sleeves only adds to his beauty, the only regret being he was not the cause of them. Will’s cheeks have blossomed with heat and the colour only deepens further under his appreciating gaze.

 

Hannibal takes pity and finally answers.

 

‘I took liberty.’

 

Will scoffs and eyes the floor, hiding behind his fallen fringe. ‘You’re always taking liberty,’ he accuses.

 

There is wariness to his tone but Hannibal hears the hint of affection.

 

‘Hard to avoid when it comes to you.’ He replies with equal amount of warmth in his tone.

 

Will steps into his space after a pause and rests his forehead on his right shoulder.  It’s an oddly fond gesture from a man who rarely initiates contact unless he has to.

 

Hannibal knows the reason behind it. He gently squeezes the younger man’s neck; mindful of the fresh bruises there, and presses his cheek against the wet curls smelling of mint.

 

‘He touched you.’ Hannibal states with thinly veiled distaste, another reason why Mason Verger must be slaughtered.

 

Will wraps his arms around himself in response, almost defensive but Hannibal knows better.

 

‘No more than usual,’ Will mumbles.

 

 _But no less damaging._ Hannibal thinks though says no more. Will needs no reminding of the havoc Mason can wreck on another human being. His body is a testament of the deranged man-child’s depravity that began too young.

 

From the little time he has had to spend with Mason, Hannibal knows he is a vile and discourteous creature. He would have died ten times over and more if Hannibal had his way. The only reason he still lives is because Will wishes it to be so.

 

An inconvenient compassion that he’s quickly learning to accept as a given where Will is concerned.

 

‘I’m sorry.’ Hannibal says and is genuine in his sentiment.

 

‘I can deal.’

 

Hannibal smiles at the petulant response. ‘I have no doubt you can.’

 

Will shifts and looks up. He doesn’t shy away from Hannibal’s eyes this time. ‘Then why are you here?’

 

The sweet vulnerability in Will’s upturned face grips at Hannibal’s core with surprising intensity. He takes a moment to cradle the younger man’s stubbled cheeks in his hands and look upon him with something like tenderness.

 

‘Unlike you, I find that I cannot.’ He confesses.

 

Will’s eyes widen a fraction and he seems captivated. Hannibal is in turn enamoured by the younger man’s unguarded response and even more so when Will tilts his head back to press his reddened lips against his.

 

It’s tentative at first, each savouring and relearning how they fit and taste.

 

They don’t do this enough to rush it but Will is eager and Hannibal is demanding. Soon, their gentle caress turns raw with hunger. Will is the first to pull away, albeit reluctantly, from Hannibal’s lips for much needed air.  By then, Hannibal’s hands have moved to greedily grab and knead Will’s supple backside and Will has securely wrapped both his arms around Hannibal’s neck with not an inch to spare between them.

 

Hannibal is quick to latch onto the proffered neck whilst Will draws breath, not willing to waste a minute when he has Will wanting. He hikes one of Will’s legs up to his hips and shamelessly grinds their bulging erection against one another.  

 

Will tightens his arms in response and pants against Hannibal’s ear with cloying heat. ‘Take me to bed Hannibal.’

 

 

**XxxxxxX**

 

They only make it so far as the guest bedroom just down the corridor from the bathroom. Will’s bed downstairs is too far for Hannibal to even consider attempting.

 

Will’s towel is the first to go to the floor, followed by Hannibal’s suite jacket and his waistcoat.

 

He barely has his shirt unbuttoned when Will pulls him down by the collar into the sunken bed for another consuming kiss.

 

Will’s sinful thighs ensnare him by the hips and his hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt. He makes quick work of the button and the zipper before plunging into Hannibal’s underwear to take the hardening length out. His calloused hand fists him rough and insistent, much like his kiss.

 

Will hooks his left leg higher against Hannibal’s side and tightens the other to rub Hannibal’s thickening erection against his opening in a lewd invitation.

 

‘Come on, fuck me,’ he breathes against Hannibal’s swollen lips, hot with arousal, wanton like temptation incarnate herself.

 

The slick tip of his cock catches Will’s puckered rim and Hannibal is very nearly seduced. The thought of hurting Will, however, holds his savage desire in line.

 

He tempers Will’s fevered rutting by pinning his wrists against the rumpled sheets and kissing him into submission.

 

‘Let me Mylimas,’ Hannibal whispers with dark promise when Will whines against his lips.

 

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he soothes.

 

Will impatient and still fights against Hannibal’s hold. He arches his body in a sinful curve, begging for a touch. Hannibal, if nothing, is a generous lover and responds in kind. He trails his lips down Will’s quivering torso and takes great pleasure leaving his mark with his teeth and mouth.

 

When he reaches the hollows of Will’s pelvis, he sucks hard and deep. Will’s beautifully erect cock jerks against his left cheek and he turns his head to give it a generous lick from root to tip. Will’s thighs tighten a fraction against the sides of his face.

 

‘Hannibal,’ Will gasps helplessly and Hannibal responds by gripping the back of his lover’s knees, pushing them roughly to Will’s chest to latch onto the delicate opening.

Will’s breath stutters and he grips the arms holding him captive like a lifeline. Hannibal alternates between languid strokes and rapid thrusts. He gentles his devouring when Will’s a shaking hand tangles in his hair to tug and he sees the rim is now puffed and blushing. When he slides a spit-slick finger in place of his thrusting tongue, Will becomes lost in his own body’s pleasures.

 

His hips fall into a decadent rhythm of rock and roll; undulating to a tune Hannibal cannot hear to ride his imbedded fingers in an indulgent display. His arms stretch above his head, grasping the pillows whilst he plants his feet firmer on the bed for more leverage. Hannibal has barely committed every erotic stretch and pull of Will’s body to memory before he’s lured back to lick the glistening skin. He devotes special attention to the scars as he licks his way up Will’s heaving chest and takes possession of those crimson lips with his own.

 

Will’s arms are around his neck in an instant.

 

‘I’m gonna cum…’ He whispers against Hannibal’s cheek, breathless and wavering.

 

‘Then cum,’ Hannibal quietly commands and his thrusts become aggressive, penetrating with precisely aimed thrusts.

 

‘Hannibal!’ Will cries sweetly into his neck and his body tightens in shock, suddenly swept by his orgasm.

 

Hannibal gives him no time to recover. He pulls his fingers free from Will’s spasming body and begins to crudely rut against Will’s cock to coat his throbbing length with his cum. When he’s lubricated just enough, he guides himself into Will’s twitching hole with a sure hand.

 

‘Ah!’ Will weakly sighs against his ear when he’s fully sheathed inside the liquid heat, and this time, Hannibal is the one who loses himself entirely to his baser instincts.

 

**XxxxxxX**

 

 

‘I saw Margot.’

 

Hannibal’s fingers come to a pause over the hook shaped scar that extends over Will’s right ribcage. The room is still dark in predawn light and they are nestled beneath the thick duvet, lying naked, face-to-face. They’ve been idly touching one another since their fevered coupling not so long ago, mapping each other’s skin in an intimate exploration.

 

‘Oh,’ Hannibal gives a noncommittal response and resumes his fingers wandering.

 

His feelings for Will’s quasi-adopted sister are a mixture of pity and irrational jealousy.

 

Like Will, Margot has withstood her fair share of abuse since childhood at the hand of her older brother.

 

Will loves her dearly and consequently has sacrificed himself repeatedly to Mason’s sadistic tendencies over the years to keep her safe. She is also the infuriating reason Will refuses to end Mason once and for all.

 

‘How is she?’ He manages to ask with neutrality that belies his fractured feelings.

 

Will’s face softens. ‘Better, now that she has Alana.’

He’s pleased to learn of this development. It was after all, he who had orchasterated their meeting by having Dr. Bloom allocated as Mason’s psychiatrist for his court appointed counselling.

 

‘But there’s still something missing.’ Will continues, his features dimming.

 

‘Missing?’

 

‘A baby.’

 

‘A Verger baby?’ Hannibal’s curiosity is peaked, as they both know Margot is no longer equipped to birth one. Mason saw to that personally.

 

Will’s eyes catch his own and he’s enraptured by the fierce glint in its depth. It’s the same untamed wildness that Hannibal witnessed on their first meeting when Will had deftly held a sharp blade to his throat.

 

‘Yes, and I think I know how she can have one.’ Will confides and shifts closer.

 

He quietly whispers to him of death and mayhem that will not only guarantee Mason’s painful demise but a strong business ally to his thriving syndicate.

 

Hannibal is yet again completely distracted by his cunning boy and he finds he could not be more thrilled by it.

 

**End**


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